


Concepts!

by UnsubstantiatedAssertion



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Gen, Homage, Humor, Mystery Science Theater 3000 - Freeform, Parody, Songfic, Technically?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-17
Updated: 2019-07-17
Packaged: 2020-06-29 16:40:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19834264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnsubstantiatedAssertion/pseuds/UnsubstantiatedAssertion
Summary: While trying to figure out how to explain to their father that they've failed their mission, Claudia and Soren meet a suspicious character who claims to have the perfect method to cook up a story that'll keep them from looking bad: concepts!(I guess this is technically a songfic? Of the "Concepts!" song from Mystery Science Theater 3000, specifically.)





	Concepts!

**Author's Note:**

> So like "Into the Well" I wanted to make another homage to something else that The Dragon Prince for some reason reminded me of. This particularly is what I guess would be considered a songfic for the song "Concepts!" as feature in fellow Netflix original Mystery Science Theater 3000: The Gauntlet. "Concepts!" in of itself is a parody of the song "Ya Got Trouble" from the play (and later film) The Music Man.

After the wave of relief that Soren had full use of his limbs back passed, the siblings' moods quickly shifted to despair over what they would do now. Walking through the damaged but recovering town square, they planned their next move. 

"Dad is gonna kill us," Soren said. A look of horror washed over his face. "Considering what he wanted us to do, maybe literally."

Claudia struck her palm against her fist. "We just have to tell him what happened."

"Tell him what? That we didn't get the egg _and_ that it hatched? That we didn't kill the princes? That you didn't let me die instead of getting the egg that is now a baby dragon? That we let Corvus escape, wait, he didn't know about Corvus anyway, we can leave that part out."

"Now you're getting it," Claudia smiled. "We tell him what happened, but not what _happened_."

"Huh?"

Claudia glared at him and waited for Soren to catch up. A moment passed. 

"Oh! We lie to him!"

"Not exactly. We just uh, _massage the truth_." Claudia said while making finger-quotes. "Like, maybe instead of us falling for their trick at that weird moon place we, uh... we caught them for real but the elf called in some of her elf friends to overpower us! See, it's _inspired_ by true events, but it sounds better."

Soren nodded. "And by the time we fought off the elves, the princes had already gotten away!"

The conversation abruptly halted when a tall man in a skimmer hat and far fancier clothes than those of the townsfolk whipped around the corner of the nearest building. He stood directly in Soren and Claudia's path and greeted them with a professional wave and smile.

"Why excuse me," he spoke in a voice so smooth it was like it had been lacquered with honey. "I couldn't help but overhear that you're having trouble coming up with some kind of story."

Soren instinctively placed his hand over the hilt of his sword. "Yeah, and you are you?"

"Harold Hill's the name, travelin' playwright and script doctor's the game!" His hands shot out to shake Claudia and Soren's before they even registered what happened. "And I'm here just in time to keep you two from making a grave mistake!"

"Mistake?" Claudia asked.

"We just need a coherent story-" Soren began before the playwright cut him off.

"That's your problem right there! You two jackanapes are going about this all cockeyed! Hit it, Joe!"

From behind the curb Harold had emerged from, a collection of musicians stepped out. They began to play a tune intricate enough to need rehearsing. That may have raised Claudia or Soren's suspicions had it not all happened so fast. 

"So word on the street is you need a little story for your dad. In particular, why you failed him in the end."

"Yeah." 

"Well, friends, an ordinary writer man might make an unassuming three-act structure. Conflict here, an act break there, inciting incident, hero's journey, all of that Syd Field flapadoodle!"

"Flapadoodle?" Soren asked.

Harold ignored him. "But I say friends, if you wanna get the drop on a modern-day audience of rubes, you gotta bamboozle 'em, sweet Jerusalem!"

"Jerusa-what?"

"Here's the news, youse twos, gonna be a doozy. You can't lose when ya choose to use a lot concepts!"

"Concepts?" Soren was totally lost.

"Concepts!" Claudia nodded. She was catching on.

"Gotta stock 'em up chock full o' concepts! Premises, plot points, anything and everything. Throw 'em all at the wall, ya'll. Just pack in the action. Don't care if the events don't make no sense, gents! They're gonna flip their lids no kiddin' when your story's overridden and veritably dripping with concepts!"

The band stopped. Soren was caught bobbing his head to the vanished music and stopped sheepishly. 

"Okay, mister. We like the cut of your moxie." Claudia took a sheet of paper from her ingredients satchel. It had some obscure spell reagent listed on the front, but the back would be perfectly suited to planning their story. 

"We do?" Soren asked.

"But can you help us come up with a story like that?" Claudia asked Harold.

"Darn tootin'! Everybody throw on a skimmer hat and a one-piece striped bathing suit and let's dive right in. Howsabout we begin with you finding an..." He signaled to the band to resume playing. 

"Octagonal solar-powered house in the desert with a stable in back? Not bad for a start! But pals let me ask you, hows about a pyramid?"

"A pyramid?!" Soren asked in confusion and Claudia in wonderment. How had she not come up with that?

"A great big green glowing pyramid! It beeps and it boops and it vanishes a pony and it gets so small you can put it in your pocket. It shows up later and glows. Nobody knows what it does. Does it matter? Heck, no! 'Cause we're already moving on-"

Soren started to catch on. Perhaps it was his recent thoughts on a future in poetry that contributed to his sudden enthusiasm. Or maybe it was just the upbeat patter song.

"-To a little elf," he joined in, "dancing in the bedroom naked as a light green jaybird! Has he got a single thing to do with the moving of the plot? Who cares?"

Harold nodded with approval. "Now you're gettin' it! And oh, did I mention? You're gonna need a kettle full o' dragons."

"Dragons!" 

"Yeah!" Claudia added while hurriedly jotting down everything. "Like I said, its inspired by true events. Loosely."

"Fire like pretty white lights two-steppin' overhead with a slow-poke Xadian escort. And when you go for a walk with your brother in the desert there's a couple whizzin' by like a banther-drawn runabout. Then, when you get to town somebody's turnin' lights on and off across the city! But I digress."

"But that's only four days' worth of adventures," Claudia pointed out. "So that's when we him with the ol' random encounter, with a pretty pair of magical monsters! One looks like a giant turtle made of lava with a quintuple-decker mess of mammaries, and the other is a big mean kitty-cat doggy who with no reason bites on the other one."

Soren just stared at Claudia. He opened his mouth to respond when Harold interrupted him.

"Yes, sir-ee, take it from me. You can bet your Robert McKee!"

"Indeed, we need to succeed. We'll take heed and follow your lead." Claudia finished writing down their brainstorming ideas. 

"Your gist consists of this: pile twist upon twist and we can't miss!" Soren restated for clarification.

"Empty out your drafts folder." Harold mimed throwing a desk drawer open.

"How 'bout a trinary supernova?" Claudia suggested.

"Yeah, you see? It's a piece of cake!"

"Oh, could we say we grilled some steak?"

"Sure." Harold shrugged.

The three stood together while the band prepared for the big finish. 

"Bring on, and on, and on, and on... those coooonnnn...cepts!"

The band put down their instruments while Harold caught his breath from the apparently spontaneous performance. 

"Hot Dog! So then, hows many can I put youse down for?"

Soren and Claudia froze. "What do you mean?"

"My fee, of course. I'm a travelin' scrip doctor and I doctored your script up nice and pretty. S'only fair I get paid for my services."

Soren squared his shoulders and narrowed his eyes. "What are your rates?"

"How much do ya have on ya?"

Claudia frowned and withdrew a leather pouch bearing the emblem of Katolis. "Just this emergency supply of gold our father gave us in case anything went wrong."

Harold's double in size. "Well what do ya know! That pouch looks to be exactly the right size to contain my goin' rate for consultations."

To the surprise of Soren, and perhaps Harold's as well, Claudia immediately tossed the pouch to Harold without a second thought. Harold smiled wider than what would be considered polite and disappeared behind the building corner with his entourage. Soren wanted to run after them, but he wasn't steady enough on his legs yet. He settled for staring agape at Claudia.

"Can you believe how lucky we were? A single coin less and we would've been in some real trouble." Claudia placed her hands on her hips and gave a triumphant grin. Everything was coming up Claudia. 


End file.
